


Confectioner's Glaze

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Series: Genji/Angela [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Food, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, naked apron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 09:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: Angela and Genji Ziegler-Shimada celebrate Valentine’s Day, the only way they know how. With each other, and plenty of delicious treats!





	Confectioner's Glaze

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a little something I came up with in between commissions for the two lovebirds. I hope you

Angela stifled a giggle as Genji entered the kitchen, dutifully covering his eyes with his hand. He’d taken off his mask and helmet to give his skin and hair some space to breath, his left arm bare and out of the mechanical sleeve he normally wrapped it in, chest and stomach unhooked from the suit segments he could do without for now. She knew he was happy to shed the extra material when he could: just because he was comfortable in his own body now didn’t mean that he would keep his skin locked away when he could help it. And there was no better place to be relaxed, freed from what he normally bore on his person, than his own home. He’d pulled on a shirt to cover his bare chest, a navy blue number that didn’t go with his flesh or the grey and green of his cybernetics, but neither of them cared.

“Can I look now?” He pleaded, reaching out with his right hand to make sure he didn’t walk into the table. Angela had carefully directed him to not go into their kitchen at _all_ during the morning, no matter how hungry he got, but she knew the secret couldn’t be kept forever. And besides, there wouldn’t have been much point to her labor if it wasn’t enjoyed by the very person she’d been intending to please.

“Of course!” She gestured towards the table, even though Genji couldn’t see her yet. Lowering his hand, he blinked in surprise.

She’d needed plenty of time to slow-melt the chocolates into the appropriate syrupy-liquid texture, and then dip and decorate the fruit, but she’d done it. Laid out on a platter on their dining table were a collection of eight chocolate-covered apples, variably dusted with light coats of cinnamon, vanilla sugar, nutmeg, cardamom and saffron, each promising a veritable world tour of exotic flavors packed into one round, decorated fruit.

“Angela…” Genji started slowly, eyes darting from one spiced confection to the next, already salivating. He had a weakness for chocolate, and the two had a pattern of gifting some to each other on the fourteenth day of February and March every year. But Angela had truly gone above and beyond, and he was nearly at a loss for words until he remembered that his wife was was waiting for him to continue.

Genji turned towards her and smiled. She’d outdone herself. “Thank you, Angela. This is perfect.”

“It was my pleasure, _mein leiber_. Go on, try one!” Cupping her hands together in anticipation, she tapped her foot against the floor, too excited to keep still. Watching as he reached out with his right hand, then reconsidered and moved to his left—chocolate could be quite hard to clean out from his joints—he lingered over each apple in turn, fingers barely grazing the top of each apple before he grasped one of the vanilla-flavored ones in his palm. Lifting it to his lips, he took a deep breath in from his nostrils, letting what Angela knew was the heady tone of vanilla swirl with the sharper sweet of the apple and the drowsy, comforting scent of liquid chocolate. His taste buds were damaged, but he could still enjoy food even if it was harder to find the full vibrance compared to before his injuries.

“It already _smells_ delicious. I almost don’t want to eat it. I _am_ on a strict no-apple diet, after all.” He winked at Angela, who rolled her eyes and made as if to shoo him away.

“Hush.”

“What? I have no intention of keeping a certain lovely doctor away.” Genji’s grin was infectious, and Angela couldn’t maintain her facade of annoyance. Her chortling gave way to a full-bellied laugh, the happy sound echoing throughout their cooking and eating space.

Genji took that as his cue to lock his teeth around a corner of the apple, tongue pressing against the bottom of his mouth to drag out the time before the food hit his taste buds, and bite down. His teeth slid through the chocolate layer, brushing against the sweetened vanilla scattered above before sinking into the skin and flesh of the fruit proper.

It was better than he could’ve imagined. The flavors blended together without becoming chaotic, the crisp snap of water and sugar from the apple blurring with the filling warmth of the chocolate and the almost-bitter notes of the vanilla to whirl into a symphony of taste that brought tears to his eyes. Or maybe that was the spicing. Still, it was _delicious_ , and he let the hunk of candied apple roll against his cheek as he chewed, drawing out the process, trying to hold onto that perfect moment where it all _worked_.

Angela fiddled with her hands, trying not to give away her nervousness. She didn’t cook often, even if she was better at confections than actual nutritious food, but she was confident that she’d gotten this right. Still…

Genji gulped, and let his lips pop in satisfaction. “Marvelous! This is truly phenomenal. Would you like a taste of your excellent cooking?”

“Of course!” She beamed, reaching out to caress his shoulder while he held the apple out for her. She’d spent more than enough time making these, and hadn’t any time to change—she was still clad in her apron over her jeans and button-top—so she deserved to partake. Leaning forward, she squeezed his shirt as she enclosed her lips around the treat she’d baked, lingering on the surface for a moment before digging in and snapping back, chewing thoughtfully. She felt everything Genji had, but even more vividly: the crunch of the apple was that much louder, the push of the spice against her nostrils that much stronger, the weight of the chocolate that much more soothing. Masticating slowly, she hummed in satisfaction.

“Very nishe, eef I shay sho mishelf.” She spoke around the dessert in her cheek, manners abandoned in favor of expedience.

“Talking with your mouth full? For shame, Angela.” Genji teased.

She didn’t reply, too busy mashing the food into a swallowable pulp between her teeth, taking a heavy gulp when she deemed it small enough. Raising an eyebrow at him, Angela opened her mouth to speak, only to let loose a colossal belch, covering her mouth in shock at the depth of the offending sound.

Genji blinked, then smiled and shook his head. “Wolfing down your own food, I see. Well, care to share this one with me, then? I might as well, seeing how much you took out of it.” He was right. She’d taken a much larger bite than he had, tearing off almost the entire side of the apple in one go.

Angela narrowed her eyes in mock challenge. “First to the center wins?”

“Wins what?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure that out later. Ready, go!” Angela started without waiting for confirmation, taking another massive chunk out of the fruit and pulling back to begin violently chomping at it.

Any proper baker or chef would have been appalled at her lack of cuisine courtesy. Her speed robbed her of the ability to truly deliberate on the vibrancy of the flavors she’d assembled, but she didn’t care: she could always make another such batch, and had at least one more vanilla chocolate apple on the table next to her. A heretical assertion in the culinary community, an affront to the confectioners crowd, apostasy to the candy clique, but she wasn’t concerned with their approval in the privacy of her own home, with her own husband.

The food turned to mush in her mouth, and she tilted her head back to swallow. Looking down at the apple, she was shocked to see an almost equally-large chomp taken out of it on Genji’s side. The bulging of his cheek while he chewed reminded her, bafflingly, of a chipmunk. A very self-satisfied one, going by the confident smirk he wielded as he let the confection roll about in between his teeth, then slide down his esophagus.

There was still enough of the center of the apple left for her to beat him, even if there was plenty of edible material near the top and bottom. Not much flesh remained around the core. Angela dove down, lips spread wide to take the last bit of fruit before Genji could beat her...and found her lips crashing against her husband’s.

Eyes wide, she took a moment to observe the ridiculousness of the situation: her eating out of an apple Genji was holding in his head, the two of them leaning forward in what would have been a kiss were a hollowed-out apple not superimposed between them. But maybe that wasn’t such an obstacle as it seemed.

With a sigh, she let her lips press harder against Genji’s, chocolate and fruit and vanilla mixing in their mouths as the apple coating dripped down their chins. Angela hadn’t been this messy with food for decades, but something about sharing a kiss with Genji around a treat she’d prepared was more than a little endearing...even if it was going to involve some cleanup.

Genji, in the meantime, was struggling to balance his fear of getting chocolate on his suit with his desire to keep kissing his wife. He’d played along with her little competition, and it had ended up here. He wouldn’t have had it any other way: he could always wash his suit later. Feeling Angela’s lips on his was more important.

Still, he needed to breathe, so this had to end. Gasping, he pulled away, fumbling to place the fruit back on the platter before he dropped it and scattered it all over the floor. Their faces were a messed, noses and chins and cheeks streaked with chocolate and apple juice and vanilla powder. Looking back at the seven remaining treats, Genji coughed and tilted his head towards the sink.

“Um, perhaps we should clean up. And maybe save the rest of these for another time. I could barely eat just one.”

Angela smiled and wide, sugar-coated grin and pecked him on the cheek, leaving a confection kiss mark in her wake.

“I love you, Genji.”

“And I you, Angela.” He whispered, placing his lips on her forehead.

She’d have chocolate dripping down into her eyebrows, but they both knew it was okay. They had each other.

* * *

After their messy meal of chocolate apples and kisses, Angela was content to wash her face and arms in the sink, but Genji required a bit more cleaning. Citing the risk of chocolate coagulating onto or even into his suit, he hurried off, shedding clothing as he went to speed up the process and barreling into the shower as fast as he could. When he emerged a refreshed, purified, much wetter man, he couldn’t stop himself from rushing off to the kitchen, toweling himself furiously, glad that he’d shed his helmet, bicep cover, and left sleeve before they got dirty, too. 

“Angela! Apologies for rushing off, I was-”

Whatever he “was”, it wasn’t prepared for what greeted him when he burst through the kitchen door.

Angela Ziegler-Shimada was at the sink and facing away from him, as he’d expected. She was still wearing the apron she’d baked in, her hair tied back in the tight ponytail he was familiar with. She just wasn’t wearing anything else. Her clothes had been scattered to the side, tossed onto the chairs of the dining table, leaving her porcelain skin exposed save for the threads across the back of her shoulders and waist, and even those concealed little. Angela’s pert, smooth rear jutted out from her angled position as she hummed and flipped the water off. 

Genji couldn’t stop himself from gaping as she turned to face him, mischief flashing across her face as she spoke.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Genji.”

“Angela..."

"I thought you might want something even sweeter, if you catch my meaning."

"...If you’re acting out, you don’t need to. I love you for _you_ , not for a role you think you need to play.” He reached out to caress her cheek, concern creeping into his voice. Genji Ziegler-Shimada was not one to idly waste such reassurances, even if his wife knew every day how dearly she loved him, and was loved in return.

“I know, Genji.” Angela dropped the sultry tone and smiled warmly, placing her hand on his chin in turn. “But I want something fun, something playful. And I know you do, too. Please?”

His touch lingered on her cheek, thoughts in turmoil. Angela was startled by his silence until, at last, he spoke up.

“Of course, Angela. Now, I believe you had another meal for me to enjoy?”

He smile curled into an eager grin. Genji never disappointed her. He’d slipped into her game easily, and now it was time to play.

Pressing her hands onto his shoulders, she applied force, pushing him down, his robotic chin creasing her apron as he looked up at her. His scruffy black hair was wild and disorganized, the product of extended helmet usage, but it had a windblown quality to it that seemed a style all on its own.

Her focus wasn’t on his hair, though. Or his almond-brown eyes, gorgeous as they were, or even the contentment shining on his scarred face. Angela was focused on the tongue that had so eagerly lapped up her cooking, and now would attend to another one of her delicacies.

At last, Genji slid to his knees, Angela releasing his shoulders to flip her apron up over his head. His breath whistled against her slick vaginal lips, hot and eager and ready, and she waited for him to start. Not being able to see him, to gauge how close his lips and tongue and teeth were, was absolutely maddening.

Genji had certainly eaten Angela out before, but not like this. Not with their view of each other obstructed, not when Angela was wearing nothing but an apron. But there was a first time for everything. Taking a deep breath, drawing in the scent of Angela’s arousal and the chocolate she’d been baking, he dipped his head forward and latched his mouth around the top of her slit, sucking softly as his upper lip brushed against the untrimmed hair at the hood. Angela let out a gasp, toes curling into the floor as she reached a hand out to tangle in Genji’s hair.

He kept at it, teeth gliding against Angela’s little bud of pleasure and humming to keep focus, well aware of the effect of such vibrations on his wife’s sex. When he paused for breath, he let his tongue circle his lips, smacking them together loudly and eliciting a giggle from Angela above him.

“Having fun down there, _mein lieber_? I’m pleased you enjoy all the deliciousness I have to offer.”

“Then perhaps I should partake even more? I’m hardly satisfied with just this.” He grinned, even though he was well aware his wife couldn’t see him, and shoved his tongue forward, wriggling the muscle to press against Angela’s sensitive inner walls. Squirming his chin back and forth and hoisting her legs over his shoulders, Genji stuck his tongue in as deep as he could, exploring the hole he’d laid into so well, so many times in the past. He’d have slipped a finger in if he had the space, but he wasn’t able to fit it between his tongue and her vaginal lips. She’d have to settle for “just” his tongue.

“G-Genji!” Angela cried out, jerking her hips forward so his nose bumped against her clit, lips tightening on his tongue. His squirming, twisting tongue was coiling out her insides faster than she was used to, and at the rate he was going she was going to find her peak within seconds. The pressure _ached_ at her core, tensing her thighs, and she waited for Genji to speed up the movements of his tongue, the heat building up as his nose kept grinding against her…

And then, he stopped. Maddeningly, Genji stopped, leaning his head back to withdraw his tongue. Mouth agape in a mixture of anticipation of pleasure and bafflement at his audacity, Angela didn’t even tighten her thighs around his head to try to stop him from scooting back and standing up.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Mister Ziegler-Shimada?”

He wiped his face and grinned, boyish hair ruffled from scraping against Angela’s apron as it stretched above her legs. “Oh, just enjoying my meal, Missus Ziegler-Shimada. But I’ve neglected your own sustenance, Angela. That isn’t very fair of me.”

Angela had never met Genji in his younger days, but seeing him now, chest, left arm, and face bare, she could easily imagine how he’d charmed so many women into licentious situations. Even after leaving her hanging, she couldn’t bring herself to get angry. But she wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

“Genji, I swear, if you don’t get right back below me, or otherwise _in_ me…”

“What? I want something fun, something playful. And I know you do, too. Please?” Genji echoed, and the frustration faded. She could afford to play along, and so she nodded assent.

“That’s better. And don’t worry,” He started, unlatching his pelvic protector, revealing the fabric inner lining, “I’ll be in you soon enough.”

Genji undid the buttons covering his crotch in one fell swoop, and Angela’s mouth went dry as his shaft and testicles slipped out, already erect from his prior ministrations. She never got tired of watching it swell with promise, knowing just how deep it could reach, how full it made her feel.

She was tempted to spread her legs, to flip up her apron to give him access. But the edge of the sink, even with the countertop wasn’t a safe place to balance her back, and she didn’t want a mouthful of apron. So instead, without waiting for him to prompt her, Angela turned, gripped the edge of the sink, and thrust her rear out. She was well aware of how much Genji enjoyed exploring the curves of her bum, how the light reflected off of her pale skin. Even if they preferred face-to-face lovemaking, the times they’d tried something like this had prompted Genji to make some...flattering remarks about her rear.

Namely, that her “Butt looked great when it was bouncing against his dick with his cock in her cunt.” She’d been riding him facing away that time, but the principle was the same, and she flushed at the thought of how she must look. Naked except for an apron, slightly cold in the kitchen air, sticking her backside out and waiting for her husband to make use of it.

Angela would have felt ashamed if she wasn’t also hopelessly aroused. Although the two weren’t mutually exclusive.

She gasped when she felt his hands on her buttocks. One the warmth of his flesh, the other cold with the metal of his cybernetic hand. His fingers glided over her skin, pressing gently against the surface, and she knew Genji was watching how her buttcheeks reacted to his ministrations. The tensing, the small bounces, the way her hips rolled into his touches. Even without being in her, it was the show she knew he enjoyed. Fortunately for her pleasure, he was looking to expedite things.

“Breathe.” That was all the warning she got before she felt something rounded and fleshy against her vaginal lips, and she knew it was the head of Genji’s shaft. Following his lead, she held her next intake of air in, and he pushed inside slowly, gliding past her lips and inner walls. Letting the air roll out of her mouth in a whine, Angela pushed back against her husband, going farther, letting his length in deeper, until she felt her rear clap against his stomach.

Genji had watched his penetration of his wife, agonizingly slow as it was, with something akin to reverence. He loved looking at Angela face to face when they made love, but he admitted there was something _enticing_ about watching her pert rear as he penetrated her, framing his length between her buttocks until her ass pressed against his skin.

With a sigh, he withdrew his hips, pulling himself out halfway before slipping back forward. Slowly, gently, rocking on his feet rather than ramming forward like he knew he was capable of doing. He kept his hands on her rear and hips, marveling at the movement beneath his fingers, but didn’t take an iron grip to her skin. Instead, he let his digits catch on natural holds on her: the curve of her rear where it met her torso, the indent along her spine, the dimples on the small of her back.

He was going slow, but Genji could feel the desire to let loose already approaching him. He could lower his hands to expedite Angela’s orgasm, and herald his own, but he trusted her to get off by herself. By the way her shoulders trembled and her elbows shook, hands still wavering on the edge of the countertop, she was getting what she wanted out of this.

“Outside, okay?” Angela knew it wasn’t necessary if they wanted to avert pregnancy, given the tools they had available, but part of her wanted to feel the evidence of Genji’s pleasure _on_ her, not _in_ her this time. Perhaps it was related to the holiday, or the suaveness with which Genji had conducted himself, or the apron that she was wearing, the fabric rubbing against her nipples in a manner that was almost uncomfortable.

Whatever the reason, she heard Genji murmur out “Of course” in assent, and relaxed. He was ploughing her softly, but even without a rapid pace she could feel him rub and grind against her insides in all the right places, steadily feeding the fire of her climax. One of her hands slipped from the countertop to flick between her legs, and the flames crackled once more, hotter this time, threatening to escape its confines.

Angela let the flow carry her away. Genji’s breath on her neck, the girth of his shaft spreading her out and pumping deeply into her, his hands on her hips, back, and rear. Her own fingers, rolling and prodding and rubbing against herself, warm and delicate and _there_. Cresting, she let a long, slow, whistling breath out from between her nostrils as her sex tightened to let Genji know just how well he was doing, her orgasm leaving her clamping and quivering on his cock.

Genji had been staving off his orgasm for quite a while. In some ways, going slow was even better than the rapid pounding he and Angela engaged in often. The steady speed let him feel every quiver of her vulva, every clutch of her lips, every jolt of warmth through her vaginal walls, even if he sacrificed some raw pleasure due to the lack of friction. And the sight of her rear, framed by the string of her apron, was glorious even if he wasn’t ramming against it hard and fast enough to elicit the telltale bounce of her backside that he loved seeing.

She whistled through her nose and clamped down on his slowly plunging shaft, and Genji let his own orgasm rise up. Pulling out of her slit, he slid his dick rest between Angela’s buttocks with a _flop_ , still holding on as he groaned and came all over ass. Balls pillowed by her rear, he shot his load and let it scatter across the small of her back and her hips, finally drooling down onto bottom proper, glazing her buttcheeks with the off-white liquid of his orgasm.

Genji leaned forward and moved his mechanical hand to grasp Angela by the chin, tilting her head and pulling her into a deep kiss. Humming in contentment, she let him drape himself across her cum-stained back, lips locked, enjoying the warmth and numbness of post-coital bliss.

The two let the affection in their gazes fill the silence. There was nothing to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I've got another story for them planned for White Day (March 14th), so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> If you liked this, please consider following me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Lewdsmoke) and [ Hentai Foundry](http://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/Lewdsmokesoldier/profile). The former is a great place to contact me if you want to chat!


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